


Five Things Leonard McCoy Is Not, And One He Is

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Written for the Star Trek Kink Meme in 2009. A babysitter, a bartender, a radiator, a robot, an interior decorator... a doctor.





	

1\. "I'm a doctor, not a babysitter," McCoy bellows, but technically what has happened to Kirk and Spock is a medical issue, and he can't really complain too much at first. He gives each boy a PADD and leaves them in the exam room, keeping the doors open between there and his office.

He gets about an hour of work done before he hears a very girly scream. Girly even for a young boy. He comes around the corner and finds Spock sitting on Jim quite placidly, while the human boy tries and fails to wiggle away.

"Spock, what in the hell are you doing?"

"He would not cease in his attempts to agitate me. It seemed prudent to prevent his poking from escalating into further attempts to injure me."

"I just wanna _play_ ," Jim pouts, going limp under Spock's weight. Crossing his arms, McCoy looks at them for a moment and then shrugs.

"As long as you aren't hurting him, carry on."

"Nooooooooo!"

\----

2\. "I'm a doctor, not a bartender," McCoy gripes, but he fills the shot glass again anyway, sliding it across the desk to Scotty. "Go ahead, unburden your cares to the ol' country doctor."

"Yer a good man, Leonard," Scotty says with all the solemnity of a man who's just been through the kind of breakup that requires finishing off your own liquor and begging the indulgence of a friend. "Got a good heart."

"You don't have to suck up to me, I'm already sharin' with you." McCoy's smirk accepted the compliment more gracefully than his words did. "So what are you gonna do about still bein' her superior officer?"

"Wish I knew." Tossing back the shot with none of the respect due good Kentucky bourbon, Scotty sighs and rests his arms on the desk. "I can deal, but if she cannae be civil, well."

"She is kind of a bitch, ain't she?" McCoy shakes his head, then reaches over and pats Scotty on the head, mussing his fair hair. "Don't worry. Your crew actually likes you. Can't be that hard to avoid her."

"Aye." First his chin touches his arms, then his forehead; Scotty's asleep before McCoy can withdraw his hand.

"Closin' time, buddy," he mutters to himself, and considers the mechanics of moving a wiry engineer from office chair to sickbay bed.

\---

3\. "I'm a doctor, not a radiator." Still, until the Enterprise comes back into contact, it's just McCoy, Spock, and Chekov on this planet. The Russian volunteered to take the communicator and keep sentry while Spock sheltered from the icy wind in a cave, and McCoy couldn't let the damn fool Vulcan go off on his own.

"I never accused you of being such," Spock says, and his breath is warmer than a June breeze on McCoy's exposed neck.

"Usin' me to keep your hands warm makes it kind of implicit," McCoy retorts. He doesn't mind all that much, honestly. Even when cool for his normal, Spock's hands are still warmer than McCoy's, and there are worse things he could have to do in the line of duty than cuddling with Spock.

When Chekov runs into the cave, practically spilling over with the news that they can be beamed out, he pauses and tilts his head at the strange sight he finds: McCoy and Spock, heads on each other's shoulders, arms around each other.

Yeah, medical necessity, whatever. He still gets a picture on his tricorder. As Sulu said, "pics or it didn't happen."

\---

4\. "I'm a doctor, not a robot," McCoy sighs, stripping off one pair of gloves and rubbing at his forehead. He gulps down the second half of his mug of coffee, gone cold now but still caffeinated, and then snaps on another pair of gloves and gets back to work.

Sometimes he's not sure which is worse, what sentient beings can do to each other or what the universe can do to all of them. Right now the only difference is what kind of wounds he's working to heal-- lacerations are mostly from the battle that had been going on, contusions and blunt force trauma from the earthquake that rocked battlefield and village alike.

Five hours in, he's lost three patients and saved nine more, he hasn't slept in thirty-six hours, hasn't eaten in eight, and for a moment he wishes he were a robot so he wouldn't have to think about his own problems or get philosophical about everyone else's.

\---

5\. "Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not an interior decorator!" Sometimes McCoy can't figure out how he hadn't punched Kirk in the face more often before he became captain of a starship. Now, it'd be a court-martial offense, but maybe if he'd smacked Jim upside the head a few times back in Academy, he wouldn't be stuck helping Jim try to mount the tackiest piece of semi-pornographic alien painting he'd ever seen onto a wall of the captain's quarters.

"Oh, I know, I've shared living space with you. Get it a couple more centimeters to the right... stop stop, right there." Jim steps back and rests his chin on one fist. "Does that look even to you?"

Walking away from the wall and toward the door, McCoy shoots a glance over his shoulder. "Ah, have a couple shots, you won't notice. Bye!" As soon as he clears the doors, he breaks into a sprint for the nearest lift.

Fucked if he's going to get stuck doing _that_ again.

\---

1\. "As your doctor, I'm ordering you to stay off your feet for the next week. You should probably stay in bed, but I know that's medical advice going to waste."

"Don't be like that, Doc. You know I can't stand being a shut-in." Sulu frowns, glaring down at the gel-cast on his left leg. "It's just a fracture, anyway."

"A fracture, three bruised ribs, a not insignificant concussion, and a case of Bajoran measles you're still not fully recovered from." McCoy frowns right back, and he's much better at it than the younger man is. "At least three days in bed, can you do that?"

"I'm going to have to have some way to occupy myself." Unsubtle and amused, Sulu reaches out and snags McCoy's sleeve. "You're a doctor, do you make house calls?"

McCoy arches both brows, but can't keep a smirk off his face. "As a matter of fact, I think I have time to make one after my shift here is done."

"Then I'm going to be in bed," Sulu says brightly, squeezing McCoy's wrist lightly before taking the crutches he'd been offered. "2100 hours, right?"

"Leave the door unlocked, Hikaru." As the younger man got settled on the crutches, McCoy swatted at his ass, then walked into his office whistling. Finally, something he was both qualified and willing to do!


End file.
